


A Night After the End of the World

by decembersiris



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Analingus, Angst, Canon Compliant, Carlos has feelings, Consensual Sex, Cunnilingus, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, F/M, Flirting, Game: Resident Evil 3 Remake (2020), Hotel Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Jill has feelings, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Post-Resident Evil 3 Remake, Rimming, Romance, Shameless Smut, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:13:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25600399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decembersiris/pseuds/decembersiris
Summary: After the events of Raccoon City, Carlos and Jill arrive at a hotel for rest, reprieve, and much needed drinks.
Relationships: Carlos Oliveira/Jill Valentine
Comments: 8
Kudos: 87





	A Night After the End of the World

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the idea the voice actors headcanon (or maybe it’s canon idk) that after the events of Resident Evil 3 remake, Jill and Carlos went to a bar had shared drinks. I decided to expand upon that. Enjoy!

The hotel bar was alive with listless chatter, clinking glasses, and the endless stream of alcohol. Her arms resting on the table, Jill mindlessly watched as the bartender poured out a drink, her’s she hoped, thinking of nothing but the burning liquor that would overwhelm her senses as it slid down her throat. Carlos stood at the bar, his hands on the countertop as he waited for their drinks. He was a mess, she noted, his dark, curled hair a tangled mass that hid his eyes, his skin caked withthe shine of dried sweat, grime, and dirt. She did not wish to imagine how she looked. She did not care to. All she cared for was that drink.

As she waited, Jill could hear the conversation being had behind her. The couple, a man and a woman, were talking about their plans to visit family. There was eagerness, excitement in the woman’s voice, a light airiness about her, as she went on about going to the beach with her sisters and nieces. Jill shifted in her seat. The woman went on, and her partner chimed in.

“We can take the boys hiking,” said the man. “They’ll be happy to get out of the city. A breath of fresh air.”

“Oh, think of their smiling faces! They’ll be so excited,” the woman replied.

Jill’s jaw tightened. Did these two really not know of what has befallen millions of people? The world had ended in just a few days for the inhabitants of Raccoon City, and these  _ fools  _ were going on about a vacation as if nothing happened. Her eyes shifted around the bar to the people who sat and drank. Did they all not know?

She imagined what this bar would look like had it been in Raccoon City. She imagine these people screaming in horror as those infected with the virus devoured them. She imagined herself being chased by Nemesis, feeling the blows he had landed on her. Leaning forward to rest her arms on the table, she bit her lip, touching the cuts on her forearm; she stared at the blood that had scabbed over, the dirt that covered her. How many times had she been so close to death? Moaning hummed through her bones, screams curling the bile in her stomach.  _ Where is Carlos with the fucking drinks! _

Carlos’s fingers rhythmically tapped against the wood countertop of the bar. He eyed the bartender whose back was to him, working on the drinks of the couple that had ordered before him. As he waited, Carlos thought of Tyrell, how oftenthey went to get drinks after missions. And as the bartender turned his head, Carlos’s heart jumped in his chest. He thought he saw Tyrell in the bartender’s face.

His sigh was like a hiss, and he forced his mouth to move, “Busy tonight?”

“Nah, man. It’s pretty easy tonight.” The bartender replied as he turned to place two glasses on the bar.

As he poured out the drinks, the man who ordered them returned to retrieve them. He was well dressed, gray suit and dress pants, white shirt that was tucked in, freshly shined black shoes. His brown hair was cut short and his face was clean shaven. He tipped the bartender and took the drinks, walking back to his partner, his wife perhaps, based on the band he had spied on his finger. The wife was dressed in a navy blue night dress, her long, blonde hair, pulled up to accentuate her neck. 

A stark contrast to Jill who sat only a few feet away, her brown hair stuck together in crusty, dried strands. He eyed the cut on her cheek, wondering if she was bothered by it. It must still hurt, he thought. The blue of her eyes glistened with an emptiness, a vacancy that would be viewed as apathy by anyone else. But Carlos knew better. Supercop doesn’t begin to describe her.

“What about you, man? You look like you’ve been through Hell.”

Carlos turned back to look at the bartender who was finishing up his order.

He scoffed, his lips curling up slightly. “You got that right.”

The man’s eyes shifted to Jill and back to him, and Carlos could see he was tempted to push the matter further. Who could blame him? But Carlos wouldn’t give him the chance to pry. He thanked him and took his drinks before heading back to Jill.

Jill’s eyes met his as he placed her drink in front of her, taking his place at the opposite side of the table.

“I think we look like shit,” Carlos sighed with a smile.

“You don’t say?” She replied dryly as she wrapped her fingers around her glass.

He shrugged, “Well, you more than me.”

“Hmm.” Jill took her drink to her lips, the alcohol warming, burning as it slipped over her tongue and down her throat.

The smile faded from Carlos’s face, and his eyes descended upon his drink. He thought to take a swig of it, but the sight of Jill’s hand that rested on the table made him pause. He’d much rather savor it, he decided.

Jill noticed his hesitation and for a moment, wondered what stopped him from indulging. But the thought did not outweigh the rage, the fear, the despair, the hate she felt, so she pulled a long sip of her drink and swallowed. She’d rather drink than speak, allowing the silence to linger between them.

But it was heavy on Carlos, and he tapped his fingers against the table. He could hear screaming. He could smell gunpowder and blood. He remembered the terror he felt when he found Jill unconscious, the desperation that consumed him as he searched for the antidote to save her. He never wanted to feel that again, and his eyes wandered back to Jill’s hand.

And when her hand moved back towards her body, Carlos could feel his cheeks warm slightly. He didn’t need to look up to know he had been caught, that her blue eyes were boring into him. He shifted in his seat, leaned forward and placed his arms on the table. He faced her gaze rather than shy from it, willing to talk if only to make himself feel better.

“We’re alive,” he said. “We made it.”

“At the expensive of millions of lives.” Jill returned evenly.

“Come on, Supercop,” he said gently. “You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“I’m not.” Her eyes flashed fiercely, “I blame Umbrella.”

“Well...” Carlos hesitated, uncertain of the words that lingered on his tongue. But he could not bar them behind his teeth, his instinct to comfort her rather than allow her to stew in her thoughts, “Kick ass another day, Jill. At least try to forget tonight.”

Her eyebrows rose, and she gave him an expression that told him “I plan to.”

Carlos glanced at his drink, suddenly thirsty, and took a a large chug, sighing as the alcohol burned its way down his throat. “I don’t know about you,” he said, clinking the glass against the table. “But a hot shower does wonders for a restless mind. Maybe you should join me.”

He smirked as she rolled her eyes, lifting her drink and knocking back one last large gulp, and as she did, Carlos’s eyes traveled along the line of her neck to her necklace that dangled just above the mound of her breasts. As she smacked her glass down her returned his eyes to face before his imagination got the better of him.

“What will you do after this?” Jill asked.

The question wasn’t out of place, but still, he found himself surprised by it. Truthfully, he had other things on his mind and tomorrow was far from it. He’d rather not think about it, not right now, not until the dawn breaks, and he could think on the question then. But here it was, dangling before him from the lips of a woman whose determination and sense of justice outweighed his own. So what could he say?

“I haven’t thought about it.” He admitted. “Might go down to Mexico. Or Colombia.”

Her eyes widened slightly, astonished at his choice, “You’re going to run away? After all they did?”

His expression shifted, turned hard and grievous, a look she had never seen him wear. It was almost frightening. 

He stared down at the half filled contents of his whiskey glass, “We went through a lot in the passed few days. We watched our friends die and strangers tear each other apart without even knowing why.” His voice had turned calm and cold.

He paused and looked up at Jill who stared at him intensely. And looking into her eyes, he didn’t know what to say other than what he knew.

“Last night I was an expendable pawn for Umbrella’s games. Tonight I would rather live for right now. And I’ll think about tomorrow later. I do know that I would rather find happiness in my life than further strife for the sake of companies playing at gods.”

Jill wanted to ask him if he demanded justice, vengeance, anything if it meant taking a stand against Umbrella, but she could see in his deep brown eyes just how tired he was, just as she felt, and so why not let him forget and try to enjoy just one night? But still, she found it difficult to accept his choice.

“What about you?” He asked.

“I’m going to fight back. I’m going to make them pay for the endless lives they stole.”

“Yes, it’s righteous of you,” Carlos admitted coolly. “But what about your life?”

She arched a brow, “What do you mean?”

“I mean what about living for yourself? Even for a moment? Taking the time to breathe and live for your own happiness too? Live for today.”

She considered his words that conflicted so severely with her own morals. But instead of turning the evening into an unnecessary argument, she rose her empty glass. “To the showers then?”

A smile played on her lips, and there was a lightness to her eyes that Carlos had been wanting to see. He smiled back, lifting his glass and poured half of his drink in hers. Their glasses clinked, and they took one last gulp before placing them down.

“Oh, there will only be one shower.” Carlos said lightly.

Jill’s brows furrowed slightly, “Why?”

“Only one room left.” He told her matter-of-factly. “Paid for what we could get. One bed and one shower.  We were lucky we got it last minute. ”

“At least we won’t stink.”

“And I’ll leave the door unlocked so feel free to join.” He grinned, unable to pass up a wink.

She admired his tenacity, willing to play along if it meant sweeping the rug out from under him, even for a second.

“And if I take you up on that?” There was a slyness in the crook of her smile.

He felt his heart thud against his bones, an unexpected tinge of elation or excitement, or both, he wasn’t sure, born from the underlying sensual tone that slithered from her tongue.

“I’ll take you for a ride.” Carlos replied, thinking of all the ways he could make that happen.

“Careful,” Jill said, “wouldn’t want your pants to give yourself away so publicly.”

Her quick tongue thrilled him, and he saw that she was enjoying this as he was.

“Wouldn’t mind giving the entire hotel a show,” he returned.

She chuckled, a genuine feeling that bubbled up passed her lips, and his smile made her insides warm. She did not expect to feel like this, especially not so soon, not after what she’d been through.

“Let’s go to the room.” Her tone turned serious as pushed back her chair and stood, “I really need that shower.”

For a moment he thought he deterred her, and he knew he would never want to make her feel uncomfortable. Still, he did not consider her deflection a slight to his ego, maintaining his smile as he stood. They left the bar, walked into the lobby of the hotel, and headed towards the elevator. They road it up in silence, and Jill could feel the adrenaline within her ticking up as the elevator brought them closer to their floor. She turned her head slightly to the left towards the elevator’s mirror, eyeing Carlos as he stared up at the numbers above the door that lit up to signify the floor they reached. His dark hair flowed just over his eyes, the rest kissing his shoulders. She stared at the fullness of his neck, the slight bulge of his Adam’s apple and down to his chest. He had ditched the heavy gear, the bullet proof vest, the gloves, the belt that held various amounts of bullets, grenades, and flash bombs—just think the uproar he would cause had he walked into the hotel with all that attached to him—and wore his thin black shirt. Not only did it hide the blood stains, it revealed how muscled his chest was and accentuated his biceps. His skin was like fiery hickory, and his hands, large, strong, calloused... Her fingers twitched, and she curled her hand into a fist at her side.

The elevator slowed to a stop and dinged to signal their arrival on the seventh floor. The doors parted, and Carlos led the way down the hall, glancing at the numbers beside every door in search of their room. When they found it, Carlos retrieved the room key from his wallet, shoved it into the lock, and opened the door. He held the door open for Jill.

“Such a gentleman.” She lauded with an inflection in her voice as she made her way inside. Carlos chuckled at her sass, closing the door behind him.

The room was dark and the lighting was poor. The carpet was a dark green,accented by dated floral patterns which enhanced how well worn and aged the carpet looked. The walls were off white with a campy picture of a painting of a cabin in a forest or by a creek, surrounded by nature that was nearly fantastical on every wall but the one with the window. The window itself was covered by sheer white curtains that did not stop the moonlight from seeping in. A queen sized bed sat in the middle of the room against the right wall and was flanked by a nightstand on both sides, a lamp on each. Opposite of the bed was a dresser and a television that sat on top of it, as well as the door to the bathroom. 

Jill smirked at the lone chair in the corner of the room, “Cozy.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

“Obviously playhouse for the rich,” Carlos said playfully.

Jill set her eyes on the bed, spying the white towels neatly folded on top of it, it’s white comforter clean and welcoming, but she thought against jumping into the fluff of the blankets and pillows, hating the thought of dirtying it.

“You gonna shower first?” She asked, turning to face him.

He blinked, and Jill saw his expression shift ever so slightly. His smile held, the charm of his features unwavering, but there was that small crack that could not be taken back.

“We’re not gonna shower together?” He asked, smiling. 

After he spoke and before Jill could respond, he took off his shirt. He sighed lightly as if it brought such relief to be free of it and tossed it away on the floor. And as he did this, Jill could not help but take in the sight of him, the way his muscles rippled throughout his body. Her cheeks heated when his eyes met hers, and she immediately turned away, reaching for a towel. She chucked it at him, and it smacked his face. As it dropped from his face to his arm, his smile fell to a pout.

“Go!” She exclaimed, still blushing, pointing to the bathroom, unable to look him in the eye.

After a moment he complied, chuckling lightly as he went, and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Jill bit her lip and glanced at the door that he failed to lock. She turned away and sighed, rubbing her hands over her arms. Slowly she started to pace, her mind rushing, and could hear the shower start. She walked from one end of the room to the other, and, suddenly feeling hot, struggled to remove her necklace that now felt like it was choking her. When she freed herself of it, she tossed it on the dresser and tugged at her overshirt. She yanked the offending clothing off, she could still hear the water from the shower. And Carlos was in it.

Her mind went back to their conversation at the bar, what he had told her. She thought about it and thought about it again, and three times she passed the bed before she decided and twice more before mustering the courage to act.

—

Carlos stepped into the shower and felt relief as the hot water saturated his skin. He could feel the sweat, the dirt, the blood loosening their hold on his skin, but he soon knew that no amount of hot water would rid him of just how much grime was stuck to him. Steam rose from the shower as he dipped his head under the water, and his hair latched onto his face. The dried blood in his locks ran with the water that poured from his hair, down his face and neck, and he watched as it rushed to his chest, abdomen, and legs, pooling at his feet before swirling down the drain. 

Blood. There was so much blood. He shuddered lightly. He closed his eyes. He would not think of the events that only took place less than a day ago. He would not think about what was to come next. He couldn’t. The hot water burned against his skin, taking with it the evidence of the horror, but when the water ran clear, he could still see how filthy he was. He snatched the soap from its dish and lathered himself, rubbing his skin with enough force to peel it away. Blood, blood, blood. He scrubbed and scrubbed, reducing the soap to half its size before feeling satisfied. But his thoughts did not stop, not until he forced himself to think of something else, that light amongst the bodies, blood, and darkness. He forced his mind to wander, and he found his thoughts lingering on Jill.

He imagined their conversation at the bar, the way she teased him, sassed him, charmed him with her voice, tone, and words. He thought of her chuckle, that array of lighthearted notes that made his heart thump faster in his chest. He saw her smile. The curl of her lips, a gentle look that hid fire in her eyes, and Carlos imagined what it would be like to touch her face, to cup her cheek, to soothe the cut with a stroke of his thumb. Would his light-in-the-dark allow such tenderness, such affection? He permitted his imaginings of her to accept it, to even pursue it. Closing his eyes again, he imagined her embrace, feeling her arms around him, touching him, her fingertips like needles pricking warmth from his blood beneath his skin. He wondered what her lips tasted like, how soft they were, how rough they could be. She would be rough with him, he was sure, and he pictured her hands roaming him, caressing him, and it sent his blood rushing through his body.

He then shot his eyes open, turning them down on himself, and he saw just how erect he was. He swallowed, wishing to feel ashamed that his thoughts had turned perverted towards the woman in the next room that had saved his life, the woman whose life he helped save. But she flirted with him too, he reasoned, and the guilt he should feel never surfaced. What she did not know... Well, fuck it. If he can’t be with her, he might as well indulge himself how he could.

He reached down and gripped his shaft at the base, feeling the heat and stiffness of his erection in his hand, grateful for the unlimited hot water the shower provided. He pictured himself bare in front of a naked Jill. He imagined a coy smile playing at her lips, a gentle, rosy tint to her cheeks. He stroked himself as his imagination took him to his knees before Jill as she sat on the edge of the hotel bed. A thousand men couldn’t keep him from devouring her, from tasting her cunt, licking it, stroking it, and he envisioned her curling against his touch, his name dancing up her throat, strangled on her tongue against clenched teeth.

Carlos could feel himself building as his thoughts overwhelmed him. He stroked himself harder, faster, shuddering with the thought of his face pressed against her cunt. She ground against his mouth as he licked and sucked her clitoris, and he felt himself ready for release.

“Sing for me, Jill.” He groaned, biting his lip.

The doorknob clicked, and Carlos froze. A wave of cool air rushed through and the door closed immediately after.

“Fuck,” Carlos mentally swore, dropping his hand from his aching erection. His heart was hammering against his chest as he listened to the soft footsteps against the tile. Did Jill hear him? He dared not speak, lest she shame him for his indecency against her.

He listened as Jill shuffled with her clothes, peeling the various layers off that, to Carlos, took an eternity. The shower curtain then opened, and he shuddered against the coolness of the bathroom air and turned slightly, keeping his back to her, grateful for his bangs covering his eyes as he stared down at his still engorged phallus.  _Perhaps she won’t notice. Not from this angle. God, what perfect fucking timing._

“You were taking too long.” Jill’s voice was low but rang in Carlos’s ears.

“Sorry about that,” he said.

“Make room.”

Carlos’s stomach dropped. Gathering whatever pride he could muster, they shuffled around each other as best the small expanse of the tub could offer. As they moved, she pressed herself against him, her front feeling the curves of the muscles at his back. He could feel her breasts against him, and he stiffened ever so slightly as her hand dragged along his hip and the small of his back.  _Oh God, was she more serious than she let on?_

And she stepped into the water and hissed at the contact.

“It’s hot,” she said as she leaned forward to read for the knob and changed the temperature. Carlos swallowed tightly, his sight betraying him as he found himself unable to look away from the plump roundness of Jill’s behind. Was she presenting to him purposefully? And when the water was to her liking, she straightened and allowed the water to envelop her. She stood in the water a moment before reaching for the soap and lathered the front of her body with it, taking the time to thoroughly clean herself. Carlos could not keep his eyes from her, his eyes wandering from her hair, down her neck, following the curve of her spine as he took in her back, memorizing the lines of her shoulder blades, her ribs, before she could have the chance to cover herself, down to the small of her back. His eyes traveled the line of her hips and the firm curve of her ass, and he knew that if he was lucky enough for his erection to be gone then, there was no chance of hiding it now. He wondered what her ass tasted like.

Jill had turned her head, and was eyeing him. He felt his face burn bright, rubbing his lips together, battling against the embarrassment that threatened shame him completely. He could see a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She had been watching him as he watched her, and his cheeks flushed. She ran her fingers through her hair, her eyes glancing over him now that his pesky clothes could no longer hide him, the thickness of his neck, the smooth muscles of his arms, his pecks, his abdomen, and then his  _cock_. He could not hide how hard he was, not that she minded. She knew precisely why he was and couldn’t help be feel pleased and flattered.

“Help me with this.” She handed him the half bar of soap.

Hesitant, he glanced between the soap in his hands, and Jill who had to turned to face him. Her nipples were erect, breasts were supple and looked so soft. His eyes traveled down her ribs to her navel, and he could not resist staring down at the trimmed pubic hair that covered her genitals. He had half a mind to cast away the soap and ravish her, ruin her, and destroy himself for her. But she turned away from him, presenting her back for him to clean.

He swallowed and lathered the soap between his hands before putting it back in the dish. It was quiet between them as the shower continued to pelt them with water, suffocating the room with white steam. Carlos stood unmoving, contemplating Jill’s motivations. She ran her hands over her arms, her gaze downcast, “I’ve decided to live for today.” She glanced back at him, meeting his russet gaze, “Might as well spend it with the person who knows how I feel.”

She paused, watching Carlos’s expression before glancing down his body to the erection that held his hostage. She felt the burning of her own loins, her heart quicken at the thought of him. 

Jill then stared at him deeply, and Carlos could see glint in steel of her eyes. “I won’t sing for you unless you touch me,” she said.

Carlos sucked in his breath, his heart pounding against his ribcage, his cheeks flushing. But her invitation, that knowing, mischievous gleam in her eyes outweighed his shame and uncertainty. He stepped toward her and rose his hands to her shoulders.

“There?” She asked, her tone laced with skepticism.

Carlos smirked, “I’m a gentleman. I like to take my time.” He rubbed her shoulders, enjoying the warmth of her as he lessened the distance between them.

Jill closed her eyes as she allowed him to touch her, feeling the weight and the warmth of his strong hands as he slowly moved from her shoulders down her back. His fingers traced the lines of her ribs before sliding down and moving his hands—rough and calloused now that they no longer had soap—to her sides, leaving her skin tingling in his wake. He then gripped her hips and pulled her against him, leaving no space between their bodies. She could feel the heat of his body pressed against her back. She could feel just how hard he was for her, and it thrilled her. Her heart began to pound as he drew circles in her hips with his fingertips, and she held her breath as he moved his right hand to slide along her backside. 

He gripped her ass, and Jill gasped softly. Carlos then lifted his left hand to slide under her arm to cup her breast. He massaged her breast and squeezed her ass cheek, but it was the kisses he left on her shoulder that truly made her insides warm. He kissed and nibbled her shoulder, leaving a trial tinted pink as he made his way to her neck. He kissed her, licked her, sucked her neck, and she reached up her arm to wrap her hand around the back of his head, running her fingers through his wavy locks.

He then removed his hand from her behind, and Jill felt how tantalizingly slow he moved his hand over her hip, tracing circles as he slowly slid his hand over her just beneath her navel, heading downward. He sucked her neck and gently bit it, leaving tender marks on her throat as he toyed with her nipple, pinching it, pulling it, massaging it. His ministrations brought out soft shudders and gasps from Jill. Her breathless mewling encouraged him, and he led his fingers through her pubic hair. Jill stiffened in anticipation. But then he paused and pulled his lips from her jugular.

She scoffed, her voice a mix of playful irritation, “Asshole.”

His lips were at her ear, “Kiss me.”

She turned to look at him, and he found himself lost in her eyes, his heart thudding against his chest that he was sure she could feel it. He pressed her firmly to him as he toyed relentlessly with her nipple. She quivered at his touch, and she could feel her insides warming.

“Kiss me,” he repeated with an affection that surprised her.

His eyes were pleading, as if her affection meant more to him than merely this tryst. She pushed the thought from her mind, and hesitantly, gave in to his request. His kiss was slow and soft and the roughness of his beard tickled her. He took his time as he held her, pressing his lips against hers as he deepened the kiss, opening his mouth to prod her bottom lip with his tongue. She opened her mouth for him, and he immediately indulged himself in her taste. Her tongue slid against his, wrestling against him to reclaim her mouth.

His kiss was intoxicating, overwhelming, and Jill pulled away for breath. As soon as she did, Carlos returned his mouth to her neck as his hand descended to stroke her clitoris. She reflexively gasped at his touch, tensing against him as his cock pressed against her backside. He wanted her, and he could feel her radiating heat, her wetness. She wanted him too.

—

Jill was the one that instigated the move from the bathroom to the bedroom. Neither bothered to dry themselves off as they migrated to the poorly lit bedroom. Rather, Carlos refused to relinquish his hold on her, kissing her lips, her chin, her jaw as they entered the bedroom. Though he spied the bed, he decided against it and lifted her up, holding her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He chose the empty hotel wall to prop her up as she gripped him. He held her up by her buttocks, gripping and squeezing her cheeks as his mouth claimed hers. He ground his hips against her, his cock rubbing against her vulva that sent shocks of pleasure through his body and hers. He moaned into her mouth, and she then bit his lip, eliciting another moan from him.

He moved from her lips again to kiss and bite her jugular, pressing them both against the wall, and Jill wrapped her arms over his shoulders, clasping at the nape of his neck panting softly as he left his mark on her neck.

As his erection throbbed against the moist heat between her legs, he could no longer handle just the foreplay. He wanted more. He tore her away from the wall with a grunt, took the few steps to get to the bed, and unceremoniously tossed her onto the mattress. Before she could protest, he was already upon her, crawling over her to plant a kiss upon her lips. But he could not maintain control of their positions, because Jill decided to take control. She wrapped her leg around his waist while lifting and turning herself, and as a result, placed him beneath her on the bed. She smiled above him as she straddled his waist and Carlos, while surprised, was not disappointed by the view.

Carlos hungrily reached up to caress her breasts, and Jill indulged him for a moment, placing her hands over his as he played with them; she then took further control, removing his hands from her, and Jill enjoyed his quizzical expression, his inability to read her next movie. She then proceeded to turn herself around to face his cock, providing him a lovely view of her back, her lithe form, the small dimples on her back that made the triangle that rested just above her buttocks. On her knees, she shimmied herself up and that was when Carlos understood her intentions. He shifted lower on the bed so that her legs straddled his face. He grinned greedily at the sight of her glistening core, hungry for her, and wrapped his hands around her hips to guide her down on him.

The scent of her made him dizzy with elation. Carlos longed to be able to worship her in such a way, to provide for her the pleasure that only he could incite, the affection he dearly wanted to share with her. And as he tasted her, he could feel his heart pound, his mind begging to hear her sing for him.

Jill moaned as his tongue circled her clit, feeling the pleasure prick and bubble from her core. He held her against him fiercely, pressing himself to her center as he flicked and sucked her clit. She shuddered and twitched against him, closing her eyes and breathing heavily as she reached up to touch her breast. His beard prickled against her thighs, and he did not relinquish his hold, devouring her, bringing forth a wave of pleasure as he pressed his tongue against the little nub of nerves. She moaned out, elated with his talented tongue that was attentive to the spots that made her squirm.

“You do this so well,” Jill gasped out. “Any girl should call herself lucky to have you.”

If only she’ll have me, he thought.

Jill didn’t care for his lack of a response, not that he could give one from where he was, and had no desire to think of any of the previous women he bedded. But even now it became a struggle to think at all as he licked her from her vagina to her clitoris, long, hard swipes of his tongue that sent pleasure throughout her body. She began to grind against his face, moaning and panting, heart racing, and his hands moved with her hips. 

He then, without warning, plunged his tongue as far as he could within her. He tasted her sweetness; it was intoxicating. She groaned above him, music. He pulled back and thrust his tongue inside her again, feeling her walls construct slightly around his tongue, and he couldn’t help but moan against her core as his own pleasure rushed through him to the tip of his dick.

Her gasps grew more shrill as her fluids soaked his lips and chin, and the more he fucked her with his tongue the closer she grew to reaching the edge. He was steady, persistent, and she was ready. But then, before she could allow her own release, he removed his mouth from her. Her brows curled in confusion as she huffed, catching her breath. Her mind was unable to process the words she searched, nor did Carlos give her than chance. He used his hands to guide her hips forward, and Jill realized that, somehow, during their coupling, he had reversed their roles.

From below, he had changed her position above him, and he quickly shifted his attention from her pussy to her ass. He did not waste a second, spreading her cheeks and planting his tongue flat against her hole.

Jill gasped in shock, but felt the pleasure just as powerfully at the exotic invasion. Carlos felt pleasure just as she did as he dragged his tongue against her again and again, and Jill began to grit her teeth, this different, thrilling pleasure boiling from within, so close to tipping.

“I’m close... Ca-Ca...” She could not finish.

Carlos moved his tongue faster and faster as he guided her hips to gyrate and grind against him, the taste of her arousing him, and all he could think was, “Say it, say my name.” He then thrust his tongue as deep as he could into her arsehole, and Jill nearly gave out a shriek. He thrust into her again and again, devouring her, relishing her.

Her gasps became silent, her mouth agape as her voice was strangled by her throat, and it wasn’t until her pleasure rushed through her, her orgasm flooding from her was she able to find her voice.

“Carlos!” She groaned out, riding out the wave of her climax. Warmth enveloped Carlos from the tips of his fingers to the top of his skull, relief, bliss, heart full at the song she gave him. And as she released, he continued to thrust inside her, unwilling to let this moment pass as she road him out to completion.

Panting and satisfied above him, Jill smiled despite herself and removed herself from him. She glanced down at him as she sat on the mattress beside him, watching as his chest that glistened with sweat heaved for breath. He composing himself then grinned at her, wiping her fluids from his face.

“Sublime, Supercop,” he said.

Her lips crooked into a light half smile, and she leaned forward, allowing herself to kiss him briefly. But when she pulled away, Carlos reached his hand around to wrap behind her neck. He stared deeply into her eyes, and Jill could feel her cheeks turn red. She felt small, vulnerable, and tried to avert her eyes from the intensity of his gaze. He did not allow it, however, and placed his other hand at her cheek. Unable to look away now, her heart skipped a beat as she saw just how soft his deep brown eyes were. His hand would burn her cheek if it could, and the tenderness of the way he stroked her cheek, careful to not agitate the cut, how rough, strong, and gentle his hands were, made Jill’s heart beat against her ribcage.

And then Carlos pulled her to him, pressing his lips against hers, slow and sweet. As their kiss deepened, Jill shifted her position, moving her arms on the opposite sides of him. She left his lips with a playful bite as she moved to straddle his hips. Carlos leaned back and supported himself on his arms, watching. Then, raising from her knees, she positioned her wet center just above his throbbing cock. Carlos fixed his gaze upon her, hissing at the needles of anticipation and pleasure as Jill took his cock in her hand. Her eyes, brilliant blue as ice, stilled his heart as she stared down into his. 

Relying on the strength of her legs, she descended on him, sliding his shaft into her, taking him all the way down to the base enveloping him in warm, wet heat, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head, groaning at the slick velvet feel of her. She too moaned out her ecstasy, leaning forward with her hands at the sides of his head, holding herself above him. Carlos wrapped his arms around her, running his fingers through her hair as he lifted his neck to meet her lips. Heavy breath between each open mouthed kiss, and Jill went to her elbows, placing a hand at the side of his face to cup his cheek and the other to tussle and clasp his raven hair.

Jill gyrated against him, adjusting to his girth, and Carlos gave out a soft moan against her mouth. When she pulled away, he found himself chasing her lips, hungry for her taste, her closeness, but when she sat up straight, her hands resting on his abdomen, he took in the sight of her—the moonlight turned her ethereal, her skin glowing porcelain, her hair kissed by star-dust—and he wanted, desperately to touch her. She then lifted herself just enough for the head of his penis to remain inside her entrance. Their gaze locked, Carlos sucked in his breath, adrenaline taking control as his blood pumped throughout him; his body twitched with anticipation, eager, ready, hungry, and he knew she felt it too.

Jill then slid down, and they both shared a gasp as she took him down to the root before coming back up again. Elation filled them as she dominated him, grinding herself against him and rhythmically riding him, pumping him, pumping herself. Jill focused on how his cock filled her, filled her unlike any other and sent her mind into a haze. She grunted as she moved on top of him, feeling just how wet she was all over again. Wet because of him.

Carlos could not keep himself from her, lifting his hands to her chest, running his fingers over her breasts, waist, stomach, hips, desperately wanting to memorize every bump, ridge, and curve of her body, to engrain them to memory from his fingertips. As she rode him faster, harder, deeper, Carlos could feel every pound against her skin against his, the way he slid, slick, warm, and hard within her, surrounded by her walls, and he grew delirious. Here she was above him, dominating him, sweating for him, wet for him, moaning for him, with him. But he needed more of her.

She humped him rigorously, feeling her wetness drip from her as pleasure flooded over her from her core to her fingertips, to her toes. She grunted above him, the muscles in her thighs shaking from the ecstasy. It took over her, tingling throughout her, building and building that she needed something, something to distract her, to stabilize her, but even as she grasped at Carlos, his hair, his shoulder, his biceps, his sides, she found no ease to her sweet suffering. And so she dug her nails into his chest, scraping down to his abdomen.

She expected him to hiss out in pain, but to her surprise, she watched his eyes rolls before shutting them, groaning and, somehow, she could feel that he had grown harder. 

And then his eyes shot open, an animalistic look that sent a shiver down her spine. He rose, sitting up, and wrapped his arms about her, crushing her against him as he sunk his teeth into the curve of her neck, thrusting his hips, plunging into her. A cross between a yelp and groan erupted from her, and Jill could feel the elation building, spreading, so close, so close. She wrapped her arms about him and dug her nails into her shoulder blades and a strangled moan shuddered through Carlos. Between her gasps, Jill couldn’t help but smile.

They thrust together, skin slapping against skin, wet, sloppy sounds as Carlos filled her deeper and deeper. Jill’s pants and gasps grew louder, her ecstasy burning, tearing throughout her, overcoming her, and pushing her closer.

“Ca-Carlos...” She huffed, her hair sticking to the sweat on her face.

“Yes,” he whispered into her neck. “Yes, yes...”

“I’m...”

“Cum,” he groaned. “Cum for me Supercop.”

That was when he bent her back, holding her close as she moaned low in his ear, that beloved song he cherished, her orgasm rippling through her. He caressed her spine and cradled the back of her head. Carlos continue to thrust inside her, plunging as deeply as he could, the thick, wet heat sending him close to his own release.

He lifted his head from her throat and pressed his lips against hers. She snaked her fingers through his hair as he deepened the kiss. But then she thrust against him, and he could not take it.

“Jill, Jill...” He heaved, “I-I...  _Please_ ...”

“Go on,” she whispered.

That was all he needed. With a final thrust, he plunged as deeply as he could within her, his orgasm washing over him and his cocked throbbed his release inside her.

And in that moment the everything was silent, was still, and in her arms, the world could end, and he would never notice.

They panted together, filling their lungs with the air they forgot they needed. And even as they came down together, Carlos did not relinquish his hold on her, their bodies flush that he was sure she could feel his heart beat. Jill rested her head on his shoulder, allowing Carlos to play with her hair, listening as his blood sang through his veins, lightly skimming her fingers over his damp cedar skin, over his shoulder blades and down his spine. Carlos hummed against the sweetness of her touch, closing his eyes as he felt each finger dance over his skin.

He must have relished her more than fate permitted, because as he felt comfort in her arms, her smell, her warmth, her touch, she then peeled herself away and out of his grasp, the separation chilling him.

She chose to lay beside him, her head propped up in the crook of her arm, and he rolled onto his side to face her. He brought his hand to her face and lightly stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, dragging them up to her hair and tucking a stray lock behind her ear.

“Come away with me.” He whispered soft and sweet, vulnerability vibrating through him that he could not contain.

But Jill was silent and he felt his blood turn cold, her silence eating away at him in a way that no virus could compare. His heart became a hummingbird fluttering in a vice, watching as Jill’s soft expression fell, lightly nibbling her lip as she avoided his eyes, searching for the words she felt. He dropped his hand from her face and breathed deeply, unable to hide the hurt.

“Carlos,” Jill started slowly, testing the words in her mouth, “Carlos, I can’t.”

But he did not look at her, and she felt her heart twang at the sorrow she’d incite. She cupped his cheek, feeling the roughness of his beard, the softness of his skin, and only then did he look at her.

“I’m going to fight for tomorrow. I can’t live tonight forever, Carlos. This is something I have to do.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself, Jill.” He said, his throat working, tightening as he searched for suitable tone. “I... Didn’t mean what I said. Just joking with you, Supercop.”

She blinked, dropping her hand, his words, his tone, his expression affecting her more than she expected. “Carlos...”

He smiled and took her hand, raising it to his lips and kissed it. “Don’t worry about it.”

He allowed her hand to slip from his fingers, his eyes lingering on hers. He followed the line of her brow to the ridge of her nose, to the soft curve of her lips, traveling to her chin and up her jaw, ingraining her features to memory. But the longer he stared the more his chest constricted. Feigning exhaustion he forced himself to role on the opposite side with his back to her, contemplating whether he should carry their memories forever or forget her entirely.

But then her arm slid under his armpit to wrap over his chest. Jill pressed herself to him, flush against his back and placed a kiss between his shoulder blades. Her tenderness surprised Carlos, but he was grateful for it, to be in her arms before things changed tomorrow. Jill held him close, and he sighed into her, his eyelids suddenly heavy. Her breathing was soft and slow, deep and steady, and his eyelids grew heavier. He thought of how much ass she kicked those few nights ago, how her chuckle lit up the room that night, how lovely her smile framed her face before slipping to sleep.

Carlos awoke the next morning to the intruding sunlight creeping through the curtains. He groaned and stretched his legs, a smile tugging at his lips as he remembered the events of the night before. Taking a moment, he stared up at the ceiling, thinking of their conversation, her words repeating over again, “I can’t live tonight forever...” and he breathed deeply. He then glanced at his side, expecting to find Jill sleeping on her side of the bed.

The bed was empty.

His lips parting, heart dropping to the pit of his stomach, he looked around the room. Jill, along with her clothes, was gone.  _Couldn’t say goodbye, eh Jill?_ He placed his head in his hands and sighed, his body turning cold, his eyes stinging, shimmering. 

Carlos forced himself from the bed with a heavy sigh. As he dressed himself, he slowly scanned the room again, and on the dresser he noticed a small black string and piece of paper. His body suddenly heavy, he took his time before he walked over to the dresser. His heart beat again at the sight of Jill’s necklace that she had left behind. He took it in his hand, feeling the weight of it, thinking of its place at Jill’s neck. Perhaps she had forgotten it. Or perhaps, she had left it for him. Either way, he put it on, toying with it between his fingers before leaving it to dangle on his chest. Carlos then turned his attention to that small square paper. Written in Jill’s handwriting, she had scribbled her coordinates. He folded the paper and stuffed it into his jean’s pocket, his thoughts turning in his head. He’d lived for today. Perhaps he could fight for tomorrow too.


End file.
